Fourteen years, three pencils, lots of cute talking creatures, one girl, no plot.

Menu

Pumpkins!

Like, how I kept wanting to get close to these little ginger babies and give them (and their parents, if they wanted it) a home, but the one with the white face and paws, who always looked to see what her mom was doing and then did the same, went overboard to make sure I didn’t take her away from her wonderland of pouncing on tree roots and fighting azaleas. She went and died on us Saturday morning. Even the mailman was sad. Run free and bask in the sunny spots forever, little Riley, you were a doll.